"'No sound is uttered,--but a deep And solemn harmony pervades The hollow vale from steep to steep, And penetrates the glades. Far distant images draw nigh, Called forth by wondrous potency Of beamy radiance, that imbues Whate'er it strikes with gem-like hues! In vision exquisitely clear, Herds range along the mountain-side; And glistening antlers are descried; And gilded flocks appear. Thine is the tranquil hour, purpureal Eve! But long as god-like wish, or hope divine, Informs my spirit, ne'er can I believe That this magnificence is wholly thine! From worlds not quickened by the sun A portion of the gift is won.'" "How calm and elevating to the heart, like the hour he describes," Ellen said, in a musing tone, as she sat with her eyes fixed intently on the slow-fading glories of the many-coloured clouds. The influence of the tranquil hour gradually subdued them into silence; and as the twilight began to fall, each sat in the enjoyment of a pure and refined pleasure, consequent upon a true appreciation of the beautiful in nature, combined with highly cultivated tastes, and innocent and elevated thoughts. "There comes Pa, I believe," Anna remarked, breaking the silence, as the hall door opened and then closed with a heavy jar; and the well-known sound of her father's footsteps was heard along the passage and on the stairs. None of her children observed the hushed intensity with which Mrs. Graham listened, as their father ascended to the chamber. But they noticed that she became silent and more thoughtful than at first. In about ten minutes she arose and left the room. "Something seems to trouble Ma, of late," Ellen observed, as soon as their mother had retired. "So I have thought. She is certainly, to all appearance, less cheerful, "Mary replied. "What can be the cause of it?" "I hardly think there can be any very serious cause. We are none of us always in the same state of mind." "But I have noticed a change, in Ma, for some months past--and particularly in the last few weeks," Anna said. "She is not happy." "I remember, now, that I overheard her, about six weeks ago, talking to Alfred about something--the company he kept, I believe--and that he seemed angry, and spoke to her, I thought, unkindly. Since that time she has not seemed so cheerful;" Ellen said. "That may be the cause; but still I hardly think that it is," Anna replied. "Alfred's principal associates are William Gray and Charles Williams; and they belong to our first families. Pa, you know, is very intimate with both Mr. Gray and Mr. Williams." "It was to William Gray and Charles Williams, I believe, however, that Ma particularly objected." "Upon what ground?" "Upon the ground of their habits, I think, she said." "Their habits? What of their habits, I wonder?" "I do not know, I am sure. I only remember having heard Ma object to them on that account."